


Tales of Eberron

by CianRhapsody



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bard - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, The Great Old One - Freeform, Warlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CianRhapsody/pseuds/CianRhapsody
Summary: This will be the home to assorted DnD Vignettes written about our current campaign. Will add details of their previous adventures in the future but really had to get this first one out of my headPuck is my Changeling Warlock, recently blinded by his patronKenya is my friend Cooper's BardThe others will come into play more later





	Tales of Eberron

Crushed. That’s how Puck felt when he realized what had happened. A few combats were enough to make the changeling feel useless, practically worthless. He hit all of one Gruang during the fighting. When they make camp that evening he takes his book and the bag of devouring to a far corner, curling around his knees. He reaches into his pack, cursing as he navigates the contents without sight, pulling out a well worn plush of his patron. The milky gaze transfixed for a moment before he uses it as a pillow.  
~~~~~  
His mind flits back to discovering his master, taken by a terrible fever in his teenage years, he was given the name of a book. Sebastian sought it out when Puck pleaded, and he read voraciously. He spent many nights cradled in the sickly Eldritch light as he healed. He heard whispers in a language he couldn’t understand and found he could tap into the green light in self defense. 

He tests his mettle working for the Tyrants, learning the finer points of forgery and works up to murder. When the warlock takes his first life at 16, he has the first dream. He’s hovering in blackness, when a great green eye opens in front of him. The space illuminates, showing Puck a mass of twisting limbs. More eyes open and it feels as if they’re gazing directly into the warlock’s soul. 

What the old god found as a thorny mess with a core of petty and vengeful energy, angry at his parents and the world. In the center, a child wracked with loneliness. No friends, his closest companion a servant of his house. Such an easy thing to corrupt. Yes, this would do nicely. 

“Master, I see your face at last,” Puck coos, reaching out to touch the enormous writhing creature. “Thank you for seeing me.” IT had been three years of study to make it here.  
The creature blinks when it feels the warmth of the changeling’s hands. It definitely didn’t expect to be touched. One of the tendrils reaches and touches the changeling’s forehead. There’s a hiss as magic sears into the flesh, creating a copy of his seal. A delightfully fervent little zealot.

The warlock developed a taste for death, slowly but surely. More than once, Sebastian’s had to clean him up after a job gone wrong. Determination he had aplenty but power was still lacking. Sharn was boring. He’d copied half the university library, little gang rivalries gone wrong grew more numerous. When the Sharn watch commander called in her favor (having gotten him out of a prison sentence by conveniently forgetting he was a changeling) it was breaking up a life he was sick of. 

His first party decimated and Lyanna leaving after her experience with Death left him feeling hollow, like an animated doll. His first glimpse at friendship scattered to the winds. Of the new party, he enjoyed Kenya’s company. Everything continued to go wrong but at least death was only temporary. 

There was still a certain disconnect from the others, a void he filled with books and seeking silence. Being on the run together was an interesting experience. They definitely became more reliant on teamwork, though he and Rezz remained the odd men out. He watched the others chase bar wenches and scoffed to himself. All he needed was his patron. He didn’t know what The Great Old one wanted, but he lived to serve the cause.  
~~~~~  


Puck drifts back to the present, listening to the party chit chat. He can’t help but wonder what purpose he can serve now. Surrounded by darkness and emptiness, Unable to target enemies, not for lack of trying. He feeds the bag a piece of jerky and pets it, listening to the soft purring. A fitting companion, he supposes. An all devouring portal to the nether realm. He pulls the pendant of Auntie Nightshade’s out from under his shirt with the hand not devoting attention to his bag. The warlock runs his thumb over the glazed eyeball and scowls. “Useless trinket.” He gathers his things, shuffling closer to the fire.  


Kenya, hearing the movement holds up her Adventurer’s Guide so he can find his way back. If all he can see is writing, she’s for damn sure keeping some handy. “I saved you a spot. Are you gonna be okay?”  


Puck suppresses the instinct to turn towards her as he sits, instead focusing the dead gaze on the heat from the fire. “I’ll be fine lady Kenya,” he offers after a few moments. “Just an unexpected set back.” His voice cracks and he takes a moment to collect himself.  


“We’ll get through it. Worst case we start carving letters into people we’re fighting. That’s gotta work!” She grins, sure that her plan is genius.  


There’s a warm flicker somewhere in Puck’s chest, the fact that she’d already been working on the problem is touching. “It’s the start of a plan, that’s for sure.” He flashes a smile before returning to face the fire.  


“You don’t need to look away like that...” Kenya says softly. “I can handle it.”  


“You shouldn’t have to,” the warlock retorts, without the usual mocking edge. He swipes at his eyes with his sleeve, cursing under his breath. To display such weakness… Pathetic. His reality was tenuous, his purpose, unknown. Just another stray in Kenya’s band. He feels her pass him the adventurer’s guide, pointing down the page. The pleasant red glow of the text comforting.  


“You see rule 48, right there?” Kenya quips, guiding his hand. “See what it says?”  


“Adventurers never give up,” Puck reads aloud, looking over at Kenya again. His face softens. Maybe this is what having a friend is like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
